


Woman To Woman

by redcandle17



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - Martin
Genre: F/F, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-18
Updated: 2010-02-18
Packaged: 2017-10-07 09:01:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redcandle17/pseuds/redcandle17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cersei imparts a bit of womanly wisdom to Sansa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Woman To Woman

"Tears are not a woman's _only_ weapon. You've got another one between your legs, and you'd best learn to use it. You'll find men use their swords freely enough. Both kinds of swords." - Cersei Lannister, A Clash of Kings by George R.R. Martin.

She could see the shock on Sansa's face. The little fool really believed that knights rescued maidens for the reward of a smile and a silken favor to wear. Cersei had learned early that men wanted only one thing from women, and a smart woman learned to make them pay dearly to get what they wanted.

"Why do you think Florian saved Jonquil? Why do you think the Dragonknight fought for Queen Naerys?" Cersei put her hand in Sansa's lap. "It was this."

Sansa did not reply.

Cersei glanced around the room. Moon Boy and Ser Dontos were dancing, drawing the attention of some of the women and the men too feeble to fight. The others were eating or talking among themselves. No one was paying close attention to the pair on the dais. She seized a handful of Sansa's gown and slowly began to raise it.

"Your Grace," Sansa gasped.

"Hold," Cersei ordered.

Sansa obeyed, holding her skirts around her waist.

Cersei slipped her hand into Sansa's smallclothes. She could feel the blood from her first flowering. "Learn to use this," she told the girl who might one day be her good daughter, "Or it will be used against you."

"As you say, Your Grace."

But Cersei could tell that Sansa didn't understand. She found that tiny nub and moved her finger about it in small circles.

"Don't. Please. Ser Ilyn is watching."

Cersei spared a glance for the mute headsman standing guard behind them. "It hardly matters. He won't be telling any tales." She continued to tease Sansa. "Does it feel good?"

"I…I…"

"Answer me."

"Yes, Your Grace," Sansa whispered. "It feels pleasant."

Cersei stroked her lightly. "Most men won't concern themselves with this." She slid a single finger inside Sansa. "_This_ is what they want," she said, ignoring the girl's whimper. She wriggled her finger. "Men will kill other men for the chance to shove their swords in here. They're all alike when it comes to cunt. Robert fought a war for your aunt's cunt. Gods, you could probably even get my son's dog to betray him if you offered him this."

She withdrew her finger and wiped her hand clean on the bottom of Sansa's gown. Then she took a sip of her wine and poured a cup for her companion. Sansa had pushed her skirts down and clasped her hands in her lap, looking rather flushed.

"Tears or our cunts, Sansa," Cersei said, with a sigh. "Those are our weapons. I'd much rather a sword, wouldn't you?"

The girl drank her wine instead of answering.

Cersei let the matter drop. Likely they would both die tonight anyway. The city was too lightly defended to withstand Stannis's attack. Cersei looked at Ser Ilyn and hoped that his sword was sharp. She would die a quick, clean death of her choosing before she met the fate that had befallen Elia Martell.


End file.
